


Stranger Omens

by Elle_Writes_4



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anathema Can See These Idiots In Love, And Pushes Them To Kiss Already, First Kiss, M/M, Mutual Pining, Spoiler: They Share The Damn Bed, Stranger Things Insipired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 07:57:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20254798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elle_Writes_4/pseuds/Elle_Writes_4
Summary: Anathema mistakes Crowley and Aziraphale as a couple, and when they deny it, Anathema points out their obvious feelings for each other much to their chagrin.





	Stranger Omens

**Author's Note:**

> I was re-watching stranger things and I couldn’t help but notice one scene in season 2 episode 6 (The Spy) felt like it fit good omens so I couldn’t resist putting it into a fic! The dialogue is from stranger things, adapted only slightly so it fits good omens. You don't have to watch stranger things however to enjoy the fic! 😊

The ringing of the grandfather clock reminded Aziraphale and Crowley how late it was. They had been at Anathema’s for the better part of the day, accepting her invitation for some wine while laughing and discussing the past six thousand years. Aziraphale had originally not planned to stay long, maybe an hour or so just to answer her questions that she was rightfully owed. The time had slipped from him, however, so wrapped up in reminiscing on old memories that he hadn’t kept track of time

“Well,” Crowley said after taking the last sip of his coffee, “I suppose it’s time for us to leave.”

Anathema blinked, looking at the time before saying, “Oh, I didn’t even realize how late it was! Here, you guys shouldn’t drive, why don’t you stay the night? You both are more than welcome to take my guest room.”

Aziraphale and Crowley looked at each other, both entertaining the idea.

“I mean, do you want to stay?” Crowley asked Aziraphale quietly, ready to do whatever Aziraphale wanted.

“It _is _getting pretty late.” Aziraphale bit his lip, knowing that though Crowley didn’t technically need sleep, his body had grown accustomed to it and he was _not _about to get into a car with a tired Crowley.

Crowley nodded, before returning his attention to Anathema.

“Can I take the sofa?” Crowley asked, surprising Aziraphale that he wouldn’t take the bed.

Anathema’s eyebrows furrowed as she said, “Okay, now I’m confused. What’s going on here? Lover’s quarrel?”

Aziraphale and Crowley both shot Anathema a surprised look, before turning to each other and laughing awkwardly.

“Oh, no, my dear, we’re just friends.” Aziraphale explained.

“Friends.” Crowley reiterated, almost sounding disappointed

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged another awkward laugh before they looked back to Anathema, waiting to see how she would respond.

Anathema stared between them for a minute before saying, “You’ve told me a lot of shockers today, but that, that is the first lie.” 

“It is _not _a lie.” Aziraphale scoffed, looking offended that anyone would accuse him of such a thing.

“No?” The beginning of a knowing smile began to grow on Anathema’s cheeks, “You guys are attractive, you’ve got chemistry, history, plus the real shit; shared trauma.”

Aziraphale shifted uncomfortable in his chair, and saw Crowley out of the corner of his eye do the same. For the first time in his entire existence Aziraphale envied that Crowley had his sunglasses, wishing he too had a pair that he could hide behind. This whole conversation was ridiculous, why didn’t Anathema believe them? They had been completely upfront and honest the whole day, telling her everything they knew. A small spark of annoyance began to grow inside Aziraphale, and he wondered if this was why Crowley didn’t usually like to spend time with humans.

Anathema pushed further, completely oblivious to the uncomfortable mood she was setting.

“Trust issues, am I right?” She pointed her question at Crowley, who gave her a terrifying glare that she didn’t even blink at, “Something to do with your friends in Hell.”

“What? No, no, I mean, my _coworkers _are-”

“Assholes.” Aziraphale surprised both himself and Crowley, who looked like he was about to die with the shock of hearing Aziraphale curse for the first time in front of him.

Aziraphale hadn’t expected to jump in on Crowley’s sentence, his mouth moving before he could properly stop it. He normally kept his thoughts to himself, _especially_ the negative ones, but for some reason, he couldn’t help himself in defending Crowley. Aziraphale himself had been to Hell under the disguise of Crowley, had seen firsthand what Crowley’s coworkers were like, and had no intention of letting Crowley defend them.

“It is a curse to be able to see so clearly.” Anathema smiled smugly, before she glanced back over at Aziraphale.

“You, you’re harder to read. Probably like everyone, afraid of what would happen if you accepted yourself for who you really are. And retreated back to the safety of,” She started to snap at Crowley, not turning her gaze away from Aziraphale, “Name?” 

“Gabriel.” Crowley muttered under his breath, not looking at Aziraphale or Anathema.

Aziraphale gave him a betrayed look, one that said ‘_why are you encouraging her?_’. It was lost on Crowley, however, who refused to meet Aziraphale’s gaze due to something that was suddenly much more interesting on the table.

“Oh Gabriel!” Anathema clasped her hands together, “We like Gabriel!”

“Yes!” Aziraphale laughed nervously, looking for support in Crowley who still refused to look at him.

“But we don’t _love _Gabriel.” Anathema said knowingly, staring into Aziraphale’s eyes as if she could see every secret he’d ever kept.

“_What?_ No-” Aziraphale’s mind seemed to stop, all his thoughts wanting to say _you’re right_, “I mean- I- I _do_.”

Anathema didn’t look convinced; instead, she pointed at Aziraphale and said, “There it is! Ladies and germs, the _second _lie of the evening.”

Crowley finally looked up from the table, to join Aziraphale in giving Anathema an annoyed look.

Anathema, either still oblivious or consciously ignoring them, continued with, “So, how’d I do? My goodness, you two are adorable, aren’t you?”

She chuckled, deepening the irritated look from the two celestial beings in front of her.

“Listen,” Anathema sighed, standing up, “There’s a pull-out sofa in my study if you want it. But if I were you, I’d just cut the bullshit and share the damn bed.”

Anathema left the kitchen, walking up the stairs and leaving Crowley and Aziraphale sitting uneasy in their seats. Aziraphale wanted to say something, anything that would break the tension between them, but every time he opened his mouth, the words would die on his tongue. After a small eternity of Aziraphale giving Crowley side-eyed looks and wanting desperately for him to speak, Crowley stood suddenly, mumbling something about going to bed. Aziraphale followed suit, walking quickly, and quite clumsily, to Anathema’s spare room at the same time Crowley reached her office.

Aziraphale tried to sleep; he really did. Unfortunately, Anathema’s unpleasant conversation still rattled in his mind, refusing to let him rest. He tossed and turned, but each time he felt himself beginning to drift, Anathema’s words whispered in his ear, causing a fresh bloom of frustration to grow in him. He tried to push her words out of his mind, but they always swam back, refusing to drown. After twisting in his blankets for a few minutes, he finally sat up, biting his lip.

“Afraid?” Aziraphale scoffed, shaking his head, “Retreat? I _don’t _retreat.”

He sat in his bed for a few minutes, letting the absurdness of the evening wash through him. Yes, it wasn’t the first time they had been confused as a couple; humans always seemed to get the idea that just because two people spent a lot of time together they just _had _to be a couple. It was, however, the first time someone had accused him of lying about it, and tried to get him to confront his feelings for Crowley. He shook his head again, and decided that he needed to stretch his legs, the decently sized bedroom becoming all too small with his thoughts.

Aziraphale opened the door to his room, planning to walk towards the fridge when he saw Crowley exit the study at the same time. Aziraphale was surprised to see Crowley up, knowing that once he fell asleep he was gone until _he _decided it was time to get up. Crowley met his surprised gaze, his bare yellow eyes widening when he saw the angel.

Aziraphale smiled, and took a few apprehensive steps towards the demon.

“Hello.” It came out more awkward than Aziraphale had intended, but he couldn’t seem to think of anything else to say that would clear the air.

“Hey.” Crowley said, running his fingers through his hair.

“I just, erm, I just wanted to say that-”

“Oh, I know. She’s so drunk.” Crowley interrupted with a nervous chuckle.

“Wasted.” Aziraphale agreed, a relieved breath escaping his lips.

“Yeah, I mean, she talks to us for a couple of hours and suddenly she’s got us figured out?” Crowley had taken a few more steps towards Aziraphale, until there was only an arm’s length of space between them.

“Exactly. Goodness, okay, I feel- I’m glad we feel the same way.” Aziraphale’s smile widened, pleased that this conversation hadn’t affected him and Crowley but surprisingly a little disappointed that it didn’t.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s fine.”

Crowley stared at Aziraphale, and Aziraphale couldn’t help but feel like there was something unsaid that was trying to be spoken between them right now. Crowley’s eyes searched his, as if he was looking for something or trying to find the strength to say something. Aziraphale wanted to close the distance between them, wanted to ask him _what was it, what’s going on, is there any truth in what was spoken tonight_, but he couldn’t. Yes, Anathema_had _been right about his feelings towards Crowley, but it would never happen; he wasn’t Crowley’s type. Crowley was flashy, stylish, and modern, and Aziraphale was still fifty years behind. He wasn’t exciting, wouldn’t be what Crowley was looking for.

“Erm, So, uh, goodnight, my dear.” With spoken words the moment died, and Crowley’s eyes stopped searching. 

“Yeah, um, goodnight.” Crowley slowly turned around back to the study, and Aziraphale went to his room, their doors closing at the same time.

This time, Aziraphale didn’t try to sleep. He had gone through the motions, turned off the light, gotten under the covers, and tried to get comfortable. He couldn’t however, close his eyes. Crowley’s bright yellow eyes danced in front of him, making him wonder if maybe, maybe _now _would be a good time to take a risk. No, no, that was silly. He couldn’t; he had spent the better part of six thousand years denying that he felt anything but friendly towards Crowley, denying that he wanted to hold his hand so badly and know what his mouth tasted like. It was better this way, really, no risk of getting hurt and they’d be safer this way.

Anathema’s words, however, had rattled his mind- sent those thoughts Aziraphale had oh so carefully put away everywhere, and now Aziraphale was forced to see them, forced to deal with the fact that this was what he wanted. He looked toward the door, wondering, being tempted to open it and find Crowley. He didn’t know what he was going to say, but he felt like he needed to say _something_, feeling as though his careful dance of pretending he didn’t want Crowley was coming to an end.

He stared at the door, his mind and heart clashing on what to do. Before he knew it, he was listening to his heart, ignoring the warning bells that were screaming in his mind. He found himself rushing at the door and pulling it open as if everything depended on it.

Aziraphale jumped back when he saw Crowley standing there, his eyes immediately going to Aziraphale’s lips as soon as the door was open. Without any hesitation, Crowley leaned down and kissed Aziraphale. It was uncertain, as if he was testing the water to see if it was the right temperature, to see what Aziraphale would do.

Aziraphale, acting on instinct rather than want, pushed him back gently, giving him a look that said ‘_what are you doing_?’ Crowley stared back, not backing down, his eyes saying, ‘_tell me that I’m wrong. Tell me that this isn’t what we’ve both wanted for six thousand bloody years_.’

Aziraphale, of course, couldn’t say that, so instead he pulled Crowley back to him, giving him a kiss that said ‘_yes, it’s true, I love you, I’m sorry for waiting so long to tell you’_. Crowley deepened the kiss, his lips on his responding with, ‘_it’s okay, I love you too, I didn’t mind waiting, I’d wait another six thousand years if it meant I could have you_’. His hands moved to Aziraphale’s jaw and before Aziraphale knew it, he was guiding Crowley back to his room, Crowley more than willing to follow. All he could think about was Crowley’s hands on his face, his lips pressed against his.

He didn’t break away from Crowley at all that night, not even when he closed the bedroom door to cut the bullshit and share the damn bed.


End file.
